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The Upside to Senility

I’m looking forward to getting old, to a time when my memories of my kids’ younger years are clouded by nostalgia and become sepia toned. At that time, I will look at the pictures I took today and I’ll pull a memory out of thin air. One that feels real, matches the adorable photos, but is totally unrelated to what actually happened today. I will be the person telling others (my own kids perhaps!) to enjoy these years, because they grow up so quick. Snort!

So, back to reality. Let’s start with the photos. Adorable 3-year-old son seated at a sun-swathed picnic table. Green pastures dotted with cows behind him. On his face a huge grin, and a formidable chocolate ice cream goatee. That’s right, I took the kid out for ice cream. Kid heaven, right?

As always, with retrospect I recognize that the disaster that ensued was a result of my own mistakes. Instead of giving L a snack upon waking from his nap, I decided he could make it until we got ice cream. He was so excited! But, by the time we got there, his mood had deteriorated into hungry-3-year-old. If you’re not familiar with this, well, then you’re lucky. But if you are, then you know exactly what I’m talking about. A simple question like, “Do you want a cone or a cup?” sends the kid into a screaming tantrum. Feet stomping, face pouting, shouting demands to everyone (“Stop looking at me!!”).

I am mortified and apologize to everyone I see. I can feel the judgments in their minds. Of course he’s a spoiled brat, his mom is getting him ice cream while he behaves like THAT! and No kid of mine would get away with that kind of behavior! You get the point. One kind gentlemen took pity on me and offered to show L his “cool tractor” outside. Poor guy never saw it coming. L turned the full force of his fury on him screaming, “No! You get away from me! Don’t you talk to me! I don’t like you! I poop on your head!”

I know, I know, I should have taken him by the hand right then and there and left. But, that’s what I did earlier in the day when he behaved this way in gymnastics class. At some point, I actually have to follow through with a planned activity, don’t I? Also, this ice cream was a reward he earned. His jar of pom-poms was filled from his good behaviors all week. And I knew he was just hungry, which was my fault. So I got him the ice cream.

We go to the picnic table and he continues his tirade. He calls me a bad mom. That’s it. I yank the untouched ice cream out of his hand, take a bite, tell him its delicious, and head to the garbage can. This is really what he deserves. This is exactly what I should have done, but when I got to the garbage, I had a change of heart (stupid, stupid heart). I gave him back the ice cream with the threat that if he said one more obnoxious thing, I was going to throw it away. Empty threat. He knew it. I knew it.

His unpleasantness wore off about halfway through the ice cream, when enough food was in his stomach for it to send a signal to his brain to turn off the evil switch. This is when I got my pictures in. He had an enormous chocolate goatee and was so adorable (if you didn’t know him). When he finished eating we head back inside to wash his hands. Everyone inside swoons at his cuteness and he acts the part beautifully. I feel slightly redeemed. The redemption is fleeting.

In the bathroom, he tells me “I don’t have to poop.” This was unprompted, which means that he really has to go. Bad. I urge and plead with him to sit on the potty. No go. Finally I just force him. I pull down his pants and sit him up there. He thrashes, hitting, kicking, screaming. (Keep in mind, this whole time I have 7-month-old S in an ergo on my chest.) He refuses to poop. Defeated, we head out. As I’m paying for the pint of ice cream to take home, my L poops in his pants. This is SECONDS after leaving the bathroom.

Old age, come and get me! Let me pine for these days. Let me cry at L’s wedding and wish for just one second I could have my 3-year-old back. Let me tell my future daughter-in-law that my kids never behaved that way when she comes to visit with my rotten 3-year-old grand kids. I don’t care that I’ll be wrong. I want to love these days. I want to love this child. (Well, OK, I do love him, but I want to like him too! And not just when he’s sleeping.) This is why I take photos. The photos capture a moment that could have been, might have been, should have been, and one day, according to my failing mind, is what happened.

16 Responses

Oh no! Did I say that I would take this delightful nephew for a couple days next week? He would NEVER pull this on anyone but his beloved mommy, right? Sorry, that really bites! What did you do with the pint of ice cream while you cleaned up?

I’m motherhoodwtf’s mom. You’re right, Allison, that when you look back, it’s mostly with rose colored glasses. I do remember some of the more eventful times when I had my hands full with 3 small children, but the big bad emotions aren’t part of the memories any more.

They have all become amusing stories now. Like the time when we lived in the woods in Vermont. It was a beautiful morning, so we were sitting out on the front steps, having breakfast in our P.J.’s, when you closed the door to the house, locking us all out. We didn’t have a neighbor for a mile and we lived up a hill about a mile from the town. I had to walk barefoot in a nightgown to town to call someone. Or the time you first climbed out of your crib. I thought you were sleeping a little late so I went to check on you and you were gone. You had climbed out for the first time, and you left the house (I don’t know how early, but before any of the rest of us were up). My first thought was of the pond that was behind our house, down a huge hill, and through the woods. I ran down there once I couldn’t find you around the house and there you were. You were sitting at the edge of the water, with you feet in the water playing very happily. There was a lifeguard on duty who told me you were there when she got there. Duh, how could she not have called me, finding my baby there by herself (she knew who you were, we were regulars)? Or the time you climbed up into the highest kitchen cabinets and got into my very red nail polish. I was busy in another room and when I stepped into the hallway of our brand new house, I followed the red path on the rugs right back to you. You were covered in nail polish too and still holding the bottle. You said, after I shrieked you name, “Deh Deh did it”. Which was your way of trying to blame it on your brother.

I have many many more, and they are all cute stories now. I also never did the typical mother thing and wished it on you , that you should have one like you, to get you back. I didn’t think I wanted you to suffer the trials and tribulations, just the joy and good times of motherhood (boy, I must really be a nice mother).

If it’s any consolation, I’m getting my rewards now (and then too, I liked my kids a lot, especially when they were sleeping). I now have 5 of the most wonderful grand-kids and 3 wonderful grown-kids, plus really great in-law-kids, who I couldn’t be more proud of. I made it, and so will you, and yes it’s definitely all worth it, and if you can, enjoy the journey.

Allison, you’re right, I do remember times when your dad wished it on you. It was often very hard for him to understand why I wanted more kids, after the first. He was an only child and always thought the chaos in our house was a little much. Here’s my question….would you wish it on L?

Haha, good question. I am fully expecting L to be the easiest, most laid back, and agreeable child from about 4 on. So by then I will have forgotten all of this stuff and I’ll have nothing bad to wish on him!

My own mom is telling me all these wonderful stories about when we were kids. Either she gave birth to angels or 30 years erases all the poop-stained sheets, crayons on the walls and scream festivals. I suspect it’s the latter.

I can so relate! I wish I could tell you that they turn in to angels when they get older. However, mine range from 10 – 20 yrs of age, and I’m stillwaiting for that make believe life to match the pictures…..*sigh*….
(btw – love the blog!! I will be back to read again!)

Hi Allison, I just wanted to say that I started reading your blog yesterday and already I am uplifted and more relaxed. The name caught my attention and I have been loving what I’m reading. I’m also a masters level stay at home mom. My oldest was born about the same time as L, I think; his birthday is 1/8/07. My second son was born 11/16/08, and I gave birth to a daughter last october 31, 2010. Anyway, I would love to say I have tons of insightful comments but I’m really just grateful for the support your blog provides as I cannot get out for play dates nearly as often as I’d like. Reading your stuff is becoming a great back-up plan when I can’t get other adult conversation or support. so THANKS for writing!!

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I've learned that motherhood is a series of shocks and disappointments, disgusting things under my fingernails, horrifying smells and constant irritation. There’s all the joy too, but that’s the stuff you’ve already heard about. Here’s the stuff that you might not hear about.